


I’ll Be Your Shelter

by RetroactiveCon, SophiaCatherine



Series: One More Cup of Coffee (Before I Go) [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cabin Weekend, Fluff, Len and Barry can have a happy weekend in the cabin as a treat between darker fics, Light Angst, M-rated smut, M/M, Referenced past character death (Henry Allen), Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25901329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaCatherine/pseuds/SophiaCatherine
Summary: Barry’s plans for his first weekend away in the cabin with Len include swimming in the lake, quite a lot of food, and sex. If it all happens before 12 o’clock on Saturday, he’ll probably be okay with that.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Series: One More Cup of Coffee (Before I Go) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813276
Comments: 23
Kudos: 68





	I’ll Be Your Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot sequel to [Can’t Take That Away From Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24326494), but it works as a stand-alone (you just need to know that, after a bit of a disaster in which Len hurt Barry, they’re both trying to learn not to be afraid of each other, and to be a little more honest with each other.) Written via RP with RetroactiveCon. I’m still hoping to write a full multi-chapter sequel, but this bit of fluff felt like its own thing.
> 
> Additional content warning for a very vague reference to possible self-harm scars (see endnotes if you want to skip the paragraph with that reference). Endnotes will also tell you where to start/end if you want to skip the smut.
> 
> Title from [I’ll Cover You](https://youtu.be/-keeaspZ8N8) from Rent.

Leonard Snart is sitting, criss-cross applesauce, on the dock that leads down to the lake. He’s watching shadows and light play on the crisp, clear water beneath him, rippling ever so slightly as it moves slowly under the dock. Above him, the early morning sun is still low in the sky. There’s a family of ducks nesting somewhere on the lake - Len can hear insistent squawking from not far away. 

He glances up to the cabin behind him, where the curtains of the first-floor windows are still drawn, and sighs.

A miaow makes him look around. Next door’s fluffy ginger cat is strolling up to him, tail straight up behind her. “Morning, Ruby.” He reaches over to scritch behind her ears. “What am I gonna do about the person missing from this perfect scene, hmm?” The purr he gets in reply doesn’t help. “How about eggs, huh? You think he’d like my eggs? I know he likes my pancakes, but I don’t have flour here...”

The cat miaows louder, rubbing her head against his side.

Len obliges with more scritches. “You’re right, Ruby. It’s just Barry. I don’t need to impress him, do I? He already likes me. For some reason…” Now there’s a question Len’s not in the mood to ask today. The nervous feeling stirring in his belly is unfamiliar, and he doesn’t know if it bodes well or ill. But there’s only one way he knows to fix it. He gets up, heading for the kitchen. His speedster is bound to wake up hungry. The thought of having a dozen eggs and toasted bagels ready for him when he wakes is a pleasant one, and Len’s stomach does a happy little flip. Okay - that’s the good kind of nervous. 

In the cabin, he checks the refrigerator. As he expected, there are six boxes of eggs in there, stuffed in the back behind a ridiculous quantity of other food. Barry has somehow found time to ready the cabin for their arrival. Did he run here earlier? Len chuckles as he cracks eggs into a frying pan, imagining his ridiculous speedster running over a thousand miles to drop off some food, just so that they’d both be comfortable here. Now that sounds like Barry.

Through the window, the lake sparkling in the morning sunshine catches his attention, and he smiles out at it. It’s going to be okay, he tells himself. It feels a little like they’re back at the beginning, with Len making breakfast for them both. But they’re in a very different place from where they started - physically and metaphorically. There are eggs to make, and his favorite guy to hang out with, and they’re in a beautiful spot for all of it. It’s going to be okay.

* * *

Barry wakes slowly from the kind of deep sleep that only a speedster can know. Especially after running over a thousand miles in one go, right after a long night saving the city first. Adrenaline carried him all the way to Coast City by midnight, where he picked Len up and ran him to the lakeside cabin, and they fell into bed as soon as Barry found sheets and blankets.

He glances around the room, stretching out aching muscles and listening to the first sounds of breakfast in the kitchen below. Barry has spent a couple of weekends at the lake house over the past year or so, but it’s mostly sat empty. It’s a shame to waste such a beautiful place, but he knows why he hasn’t been here more. But he pushes away the sad thoughts - something he’s used to doing, at this point in his life - and reaches across the nightstand for his watch. Three minutes to nine. Of course Len’s up already. Barry pulls on the sweatpants he left crumpled on the floor last night, not stopping to think much until he’s at the top of the stairs - where his hand hovers above the bannister. 

This is the first weekend the two of them have spent together in the cabin. Their impromptu date and night in the hotel, two weeks ago, was an eye in the stormy history of their relationship. But now, with a three-day weekend in the cabin stretching out ahead of them, a heavy weight is dropping on Barry’s shoulders. He and Len said they were going to figure out how to do this differently. But what if they can’t figure out how? What if the problems of the past can follow them as far as a cabin that feels like it’s on the edge of the world?

A voice breaks into Barry’s maelstrom of thoughts, calling him to shore. “You gonna stand on the stairs all day?” calls Len’s amused lilt. “Breakfast’s getting cold.” 

_It’s just breakfast, Barry,_ says a voice in his head, which also sounds a lot like Len. Right. One thing at a time. Breakfast. He zips down the stairs - sure, they’re on vacation, but saving half a minute is always nice - and skids to a stop in front of Len, who’s frying eggs at the stovetop. A substantial pile of bagels sits on the counter, the smell from the toaster telling him there’s more on the way. 

Barry smiles at his thief. He’s rewarded with the roguish grin that he fell in love with, and he’s already forgotten what he was worried about. “Morning,” Barry says, leaning across the island - carefully avoiding splatters of fat from the pan - to plant a sweet kiss on Len’s lips. 

“Morning, Barry.” Len’s eyes are twinkling at him. “Have you considered, oh, I don’t know, _slowing down_ a little?” Barry doesn’t have a chance to answer before Len narrows his eyes at the frying pan, rushing to add, “Not that I’m trying to shut that part of you out. Thought you just might like a break, that’s all.” It’s not like Len to let his words tumble over each other. Seems Barry’s not the only nervous one around here.

He gratefully accepts a plate of eggs and bagels, taking it to the table. “God, I’m famished. Last night was a long one.“ He takes a bite and keeps talking through it. “Oh, so good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Len replies, hovering at the counter. “I’m just sorry there’s no bacon. I know you like it.”

Barry shakes his head. “I didn’t want to have it in the house, now that I know you don’t eat it.” He glances over his shoulder - Len has started the clean-up before he’s even begun to eat. Of course. It’s been three months since they’ve spent any real time together, but he should have known Len wouldn’t change much.

…Which was _not_ what Barry meant to think. He keeps eating quietly. Probably best if he waits quietly for Len to join him, and doesn’t run off his impulsive mouth. 

“Don’t object to you cooking it for yourself.” Len finishes stacking the dishwasher and brings his plate over. “It’s sweet of you not to have it in the house, though.” 

Len’s eyes are full of affection, gazing back at Barry with rapt attention as he eats his eggs. Firmly, Barry pushes all dark thoughts from his mind. Len, who is adorable, deserves the best version of Barry Allen this weekend, not this self-doubting mess. “Okay, so, we have three days. What do you want to do first?”

Len relaxes back in his seat. “The lake is beautiful. Warm enough out yet for swimming?” He smirks, eyes roaming over what he can see of Barry’s body. It’s not hard to guess that he’s imagining him in a bathing suit, and Barry can already feel heat rising in his cheeks. 

Putting down his fork, he leans across the table to give Len another quick, impulsive kiss. “Yeah,” he murmurs against his lips. “That sounds very, very good.” Going out to the lake, hanging out in the water, maybe they come inside to towel each other off… Good concept, Len.

Len lingers on the kiss. Then he quips, “Was gonna suggest a picnic. Now I’m thinking we may not have enough food in the house. Not with your metabolism.” 

Barry glances wryly down at his empty plate, which started out heaped with three times as many eggs as Len’s. He smiles at the easy comment about his enhanced metabolism. That’s new, and a good sign - it might mean Len is starting to think about Barry’s powers as just another part of him. “So, swimming, then?” 

“If you’ve got a spare bathing suit, that sounds like a plan,” Len says, getting up and heading for the stairs. Barry grins behind them at the pile of unwashed dishes in the sink, willingly abandoned by Len in his excitement to spend time with him. Barry doesn’t mind getting the morning’s first glimpse of Len’s lovely ass while they climb the stairs, either. 

Only when he’s well past Len’s personal bubble does Barry zip to the hall closet, grabbing his bathing suit and the spare. Then he speeds back to the bedroom, taking care not to flash right in there. Len may be getting a little more comfortable with Barry’s dangerous powers, but that doesn’t mean he wants to see them on display all the time while he’s relaxing at home.

He tosses the suit playfully at Len, who holds it up, raising an eyebrow. “Doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?” 

The comment is clearly a joke, but Barry hears a little reluctance in Len’s voice too. “Sorry,” Barry says. “It was the only other one in the closet.” Barry might have great abs now, but he didn’t in high school, when he was practically laughed off the swim team, and he painfully remembers that discomfort with his body. Len is all impressive lines and sculpted muscle, but Barry hasn’t missed the way he covers up. Barry doesn’t want to force him into the bathing suit, but he reassures, “There’ll probably be no one else on the lake today. The only permanent residents are Jon and Toby next door - the people owned by Ruby the cat - and I doubt they’ll show till this afternoon.” 

Len laughs. “Owned by the cat, huh? Guess it does work like that.” But he seems comfortable enough changing in front of Barry. When he spots Barry watching him, he even smirks and gives a little spin for his appreciation. It shows off parts of him that Barry would be very happy to see up close again, after too long apart. 

“Race you downstairs?” Barry asks.

He’s kidding, but Len plays along, a touch of the Captain Cold drawl creeping into his voice. “And how would that be fair?” He spreads empty hands. “Not like I have any way to level the playing field…” And then, in a very surprising move, he loops his arms around Barry’s neck. “How about you run us both down there, instead?” 

There’s trying to be comfortable with Barry using his powers at home, and there’s _this_. Barry can’t move for a minute.

“Go on, then,” Len prods, eyes bright and unafraid, no matter how hard Barry looks for fear there. Gently, Barry lifts him in his arms - and then they’re at the lake. For Len, the run will have taken less than a second. For Barry, it feels a little longer, and he takes the chance to gaze at Len’s beautiful face, eyes closed as if he’s enjoying the ride. 

Barry slows carefully down to human speeds and sets Len on the edge of the jetty, reveling in his delighted smile and stretch. Confidence buoyed, Barry jumps right into the lake. He’s hit by a shock of cool water, cramping up his speedster muscles, but the little shivers only run through him for a minute before he adjusts. He makes a show of splashing water in Len’s direction, calling out, “Come on in - the water’s just your temperature!”

A smirking Len sets off at a run, leaping into the air and crashing into the lake with a splash that sends water everywhere, drenching Barry with another chilly shock. “Weren’t kidding about the cold, were you?” he laughs. He swims towards him, arms out for what Barry assumes is going to be a hug—

—and then Len pulls him under the water.

Barry comes up having what can only be described as a fit of giggles, yelling, “You meanie!” when he can breathe again. 

But Len has already pulled back, swimming a little way away with the barest touch of reticence on his face, well-muscled arms moving in regular strokes. Barry doesn’t know how to read him. Did the run down from upstairs freak him out after all?

Barry swims away a bit to calm his nerves. The water is so clear here, where the sun flickers on the ripples he makes as he glides through the water. Over on the far shore, the trees cast long, lonely shadows. Barry’s missed this. The last time he swam here was with his dad. He should do it more. 

With his whirling mind quietened a little, he swims back to Len, who’s waiting patiently for him, his face thoughtful. He greets Barry with a light kiss on his head. “Penny for ‘em?”

That’s his way of asking about Barry’s _feelings_ , and Barry loves him so much for persisting. If Len, of all people, can keep trying to be honest and direct, Barry owes him the same. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit freaked out all morning, and I don’t know if you are too, and it’s getting me into a mess, you know?” He looks weakly at Len for rescue. “We said the important thing was not to be afraid of each other. And I know we might not get there right away, but… I think I need to know when you are. Afraid, that is.”

Treading water easily, Len sighs. “Barry, you gotta remember. It’s not always that I’m scared of _you_.” There’s fear in his eyes when they meet Barry’s, but for the first time today, Barry wonders if that’s not all about his powers. Len glances away to the cabin. “You’re not the only one who’s nervous about the past coming back to haunt us. Don’t want to backslide into someone who can hurt you. Again.”

Len’s sour face suggests admitting that was a struggle, but Barry feels nothing but relief. He’s not surprised that he’s a constant reminder, to Len, of what he did to Barry, but that’s only going to improve with time. Barry moves slowly, telegraphing his moves - despite what Len has said, he still doesn’t want to panic him by rushing around too carelessly - and loops his arms around Len’s neck, giving him a brief, grateful kiss. “Thank you.” 

Len visibly relaxes with the kiss, laughing a little. “Don’t thank me. You had to drag that out of me.”

“Worth it,” Barry shoots back with a grin. As Len starts to swim away, he feels his grin get wider. The cocky thief thinks he’s left Barry in his wake. But Barry did learn _something_ on the swim team. He glides in behind Len with a smooth, silent breaststroke. Reaching out, he drags Len under the surface. Len tackles him, and they go spiralling down into the dark water below, free and easy. They’re both laughing when they finally come splashing back up. 

“Can’t believe you didn’t use your speed,” Len taunts, shaking water off his head. 

He’s using that _voice_ , that Captain Cold drawl that he knows _does things_ to Barry. Panting, Barry gives him a little smile. “Just trying to go easy on you. You know you can’t win.” 

Len tilts his head, and it’s a moment of truth between them. It feels good for Barry to admit that he has to hold back. Maybe all this stuff really is better out in the open. Len counters, “Not like I have the cold gun with me, or maybe I would have.”

Barry snorts. “Or this lake would be a frozen wasteland in seconds, and you’d be skidding around on it while I dragged you into shore with the help of the speed force.”

“Hmm.” Len glances around with a confident raise of an eyebrow. “Could be fun. We’ll have to try it sometime.” 

“No,” Barry says firmly, ignoring Len when he winks at him. He looks back at the shore, now a good distance away. The adrenaline-fuelled wrestling and chasing, the mutual teasing, and that drawl of Len’s… It’s all adding up to a growing awareness that they’re both wet, naked and all alone in this lake. “You, uh, want to head back to shore?” He’s not good enough at flirting to hint at what he’s thinking, but he hopes Len will get the idea.

Len gets the idea. He presses up close to Barry, whispering, “And what exactly are your intentions for when we get there?” When Barry starts stuttering, Len just winks at him again. “Tell me on the way back.”

But Barry’s too busy swimming back like there’s a shark on his tail. He doesn’t quite catch up with Len, who’s the stronger swimmer, but it’s a close one. At last Barry drags himself up onto shore, collapsing in the long grass, breathing hard beside a smirking Leonard. 

He gets his own back when he’s finally caught his breath - and why does that take him just a little longer than Len? He rolls over, pillowing his head on one hand. “I’m pretty sure,” he murmurs in answer to Len’s question from a few moments ago, “that what I’m hoping to do is obvious.” He’s licking his lips as he leans over to kiss Len, slow and deep, nipping at his lower lip and pushing him down into the grass.

“Well,” Len breathes as they break apart, “I’m the one with the reputation for planning.” He glances back at the house. “Which could have been useful, since _one_ of us ran us out here with no towels to lie on, or lube, or anything—”

And now there’s a towel under each of them and a little bottle of lube in Len’s hand, and he’s pretty sure Len didn’t even notice him move. Barry grins, resuming the kiss. “You could say I’m useful,” he says, the next time they come up for air.

“You’re a _show-off_ ,” Len laughs. Barry’s almost on top of him now, and Len’s goading him for more with little closed-mouthed kisses, and Barry takes the opportunity to straddle him fully. Len cups Barry’s ass and pulls him closer, the fingers of his other hand roaming up to his back. In a low voice, Len adds, “But I’m sure I can do a little showing off of my own, if that’s what you want.”

Barry shivers. He makes no attempt to hide the effect Len’s voice and promises are having on him. “Yes please,” he whispers into Len’s ear, taking the opportunity to nibble on Len’s earlobe - which provokes a weak, beautiful sound from Len. 

He runs his hands down Len’s chest, enjoying the feel of exposed skin under his fingers. This might be the first time he’s seen Len this _naked_. He pulls back a little, not wanting to make Len uncomfortable, since it could seriously kill the mood. 

But Len leans up into Barry’s touch. There’s something new and trusting in his eyes, if a little hesitant. It spurs Barry on, and he grinds down into Len - who hitches up his hips against him, following his lead. Barry is aware of the possibility that they might be overlooked, but the nearest cabin isn’t too close. From a distance, their position is probably easily mistaken for enthusiastic making out. But Barry can’t pretend the idea of being seen doesn’t give him a little thrill, making him grind down harder. And then Len moans beneath him, only a little quieter than usual in the outdoor setting, and it’s too enticing - Barry _can’t not_. He slips a hand down inside Len’s bathing suit, leaning over him to kiss him again as he does, muffing those gorgeous sounds.

Len grabs the lube, slicking up his fingers and Barry’s. Barry only has a moment to wish he was better at this, that Len didn’t have to take control, before Len brings him off with a few twists of his clever fingers as Barry rocks into him, already warmed up by the grinding - damn speedster sensitivity. Keen to reciprocate, Barry fumbles to get a hold of Len, who comes a few seconds later, their moans swallowed by the sloppy kiss that neither of them have broken. 

Barry flops down beside him in the grass. Len is panting like he enjoyed himself, so that’s encouraging. In the afterglow, Barry’s cliché meter briefly switches off - the ground beneath them is so soft, the canopy of sky above them is so blue, and he’s beyond happy. He couldn’t have imagined the weekend working out this well, and it’s only mid-morning on Saturday.

After a happy moment of quiet, he returns to idly running his hand over Len’s chest. Barry has caught glimpses of his mottled skin before, the patchwork of old scars, but never for this long. If he’s not hiding under blankets, Len is covering up with long shirts and lights off during sex. Given the new insight Barry’s gained from their brief discussions about the past, he can’t help it if his hands linger just briefly on some of the more distressing evidence of Len’s history.

Len turns to look at him, propping himself up on his elbow. “Kind of a weird post-sex high you’ve got there,” he says, uncomfortable eyes following Barry’s curious gaze.

Barry stops touching him at once. “Sorry.” 

But Len gives him a soft smile and wry eyebrow raise. “Boyfriend privileges. You get to look, Barry.” He waves a hand vaguely above his chest, indicating his scars more than his torso.

So Barry’s fingers resume their tracing over raised bumps, uneven ridges and faded lines that he might once have thought ugly, but not anymore. The stories behind the scars might be ugly as shit, but that’s not who Len is. “Do you… mind if I ask a question?”

In the brief silence that follows, Len’s eyes drop almost imperceptibly. But he says, “Go ahead.”

Barry balks a little at the reluctance in his voice. He’s known since the beginning what a private person Len is. He doesn’t want him to think he can’t have secrets, can’t keep himself safe. That was never what Barry meant by honesty. But he can’t help his curiosity. His hand lingers on a wide scar wrapping around Len’s hip. “You’ve been covering up around me.” He regrets the phrasing when it comes out like an accusation, but Len knows him well enough now not to be offended. “Why? Are you… ashamed?”

Len’s clearly thinking about his answer. “Not exactly,” he says eventually. “Not of the scars themselves, anyway. Told you I don’t entirely regret the life I’ve lived.” Barry nods, repressing the urge to interrupt. “That’s the life that got me a lot of these scars. I didn’t see any other way to survive, back then. But I don’t ever want to find myself in those circumstances again.” 

He shoots an odd look Barry’s way, almost grateful, but with a wary edge. Does he think Barry is going to judge him? The worst thing is, the old Barry probably would have done just that. But he doesn’t want to anymore. He’s slowly been realizing that the life Len came from is a long way from his own world. 

“As for why I hid them,” Len goes on, shrugging. “At first, so you wouldn’t ask about the life that led to them. After that… Habit, I guess.”

It’s not the answer Barry expected. Until now, he imagined that most of Len’s scars had come from people who hurt him. And that might still be true. But his explanation is full of active verbs and hints of self-responsibility, and Barry is reassessing. Some of it puts him in mind of Len’s recent confession on the beach - that he wanted to make sure he never again put Barry in a position where he could hurt him. He really seems to be trying to live up to that.

Something is still striking Barry as odd about Len’s answer, though, and he lies back in the grass to figure out what, staring up at the sky. Finally, the disjunct comes together with a click in Barry’s head, and the key is the word _survive_. He’s heard Len call himself a survivor before, but he wasn’t listening. He’s been too busy thinking of Len as a victim... and now he can see how much Len would hate that. Still, he has to wonder how long the drive to survive has been keeping Len trapped in circumstances he could have escaped otherwise. 

Barry hopes he’s worth living differently for.

Len is silent while Barry’s doing all this thinking, watching him with a look he can’t begin to read. “Thank you,” Barry murmurs, and reaches up his head to kiss him. They’re starting to make a habit of this - a confession in exchange for a thanks and a kiss. 

But Len seems happy enough with that arrangement, making a contented little noise against him. “Figured it was time you saw the whole of me,” he says. He glances down at his own torso with a quiet look, and in spite of what he said before, Barry thinks he sees disgust in Len’s eyes.

He knows better than to think he can change how Len feels about himself in one conversation. He doesn’t know what words Len might find distasteful, even triggering, so he doesn’t call Len _beautiful_ like he wants to, but his hand finds its way back to Len’s chest. “I’m really glad you shared that, Len. I want to know more about you.” His other hand moves up to Len’s face, thumb rubbing gently along his cheekbone. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me everything. Your past is yours. You can tell me what you want to, when you want to - even if that’s never.” 

Len nods. “I know. And that’s sweet of you, but...” He sighs, leaning into Barry’s hand on his cheek. “I’m not _proud_ of the things I’ve done, but they’ve made me who I am. I don’t wanna hide them from you - especially the ones that could come back and bite us in the asses.” Barry raises an eyebrow, and Len clarifies, “In my bad memories, or in dangerous people my past might bring to our doorstep. Those things I’d rather share before it gets to that. On my own terms.” He shrugs. “When I’m ready.”

Barry shifts to wrap an arm around Len’s shoulder, letting his hand trace up and down the line of his arm. True to the theme of the morning, there are scars there too - faint, straight lines that Barry recognizes with a sinking feeling - but he’s not going to ask. Len will open up to him when he’s ready. Barry breathes in the new trust between them that he wasn’t expecting from today. He watches the shimmering lake ahead of them, listening to Len’s steady heartbeat. “Ready to go inside?” he asks after a few minutes.

Len nods against him, with a wistful, “Yeah.”

“Good, because I’m starving.”

Clearly trying not to smile, Len checks his watch. “Two and a half hours, Barry. It’s been two and a half hours since you ate a dozen eggs and six bagels.”

Barry drops his head against Len’s shoulder. “And then there was swimming, and shoving each other under the water, and then—” he looks around conspiratorially— “and then sex,” he finishes in a stage whisper that prompts a chuckle from Len. “And now I’m hungry.”

“Fine,” Len says in a lazy drawl. He staggers to his feet, offering Barry a hand. “Picnic?”

“Picnic,” Barry agrees, wrapping his arm around Len’s waist as they walk back up to the cabin, slowly.

Barry could get used to life at this pace.

* * *

That night, while Barry is in the shower, Len lies in bed staring at the photo on the wall. 

It’s been a beautiful day. A picnic lunch was followed by a walk in the woods. Then they spent the evening in front of the TV with pizza, Barry refusing to say how far he’d run to get it. If Barry’s speed is always this convenient, Len could get used to having it around the house. It’s strange to think he might be getting comfortable with those powers he used to be so afraid of. It crept up on Len when he wasn’t looking, in the way so much change does. He can feel the future within reach - a future with Barry - and it feels pretty damn good. Len may not be sure he deserves it yet, but he’s getting there.

The picture on the wall draws Len’s attention again. It’s a small photo of Barry’s parents. Len recognizes them from a picture in Barry’s apartment, but he never took the time before to look at the smiling redheaded woman and the blond man with the kind face. Barry’s been so patient with Len, coaxing truths about his past out of him. It’s time Len returned the favor.

“Barry.” His speedster is back in the room, toweling off his hair. “You said this was your father’s cabin, right?”

Barry nods as he grabs a t-shirt. “Yeah. He bought this place with the compensation money, after he got out of prison.” 

The wet towel has gone - Len marvels at how he didn’t even notice Barry flashing out of the room and back again. He really is getting used to those powers. Climbing into bed, Barry cuddles up to him, and Len gets a thrill of domestic contentment. “You spend much time with him here?”

Barry shakes his head against him, a rustle of hair and shower-warm skin. “Just a few weekend visits. It was—” He breaks off. When he picks up the narrative, Barry’s voice has dropped to a solemn pitch. “He wasn’t free very long before he died. Less than a year.”

He falls silent again, but Len keeps listening. He gets the feeling he doesn’t have to do much else. Getting the truth out of Len is as slow and painful as pulling teeth. With Barry, it comes tumbling out all too easily. You just have to pay attention - and Len hasn’t done enough of that.

Sure enough, Barry starts talking again a moment later. “Did I tell you what happened to him?” 

Len shakes his head. “Only that he died.”

“Yeah.” There’s a very slight tremor in Barry’s voice, and Len’s arm tightens around him. “At least with my mom, it was someone else’s speedster powers that got her hurt. With Dad... it was mine. In a roundabout way.”

Len doubts that’s entirely true, but he kisses the top of Barry’s head and keeps listening. The story that pours out of Barry is marked by old pain and anger, but Len gets the sense that some of that has faded in the year since it happened. By the time Barry has reached the end of his storytelling, he’s come back around to the cabin, and an anecdote so full of love that it makes Len smile. “...At which point, Dad said, ‘If you’re so sure you can catch a fish, Slugger, you can get in the lake and show me.’ And then he pushed me in.” He grins at Len. “It was March. Fifty-five degrees out.”

“Your dad was savage,” Len says approvingly, smiling as Barry laughs.

Barry snuggles against him. “He was great.” He falls silent again. He doesn’t have to say that he misses his dad. Some truths don’t need to be told out loud.

“I wish I’d known him,” Len says, and means it. He only gets a moment to wonder what it’s like to feel that positively about your father, before he notices Barry giving him a wicked look. He tilts his head. “What?”

“I do have a family you could spend some time getting to know.” Barry winks at him.

Len turns to bury his head in his pillow. “You’re not serious.” 

Barry chuckles, curling tighter into Len’s side. “They’re not that bad. You like Iris.”

Len turns back to aim a withering look at him. “She’s great. Your foster father who arrested me twice and found me so memorable he _forgot_ me, and once came to my apartment to tell me to stay out of your life, I’m less keen on.”

“Aww. Big bad Leonard Snart thought Detective West would remember him?” Barry asks with a mocking lilt in his voice.

Len is not going to admit that it stirs a strange relief in him to hear Barry comfortable enough to make fun of him. He tries to turn a hard stare on Barry, but it’s probably a petulant glare. “Yes!” 

Barry laughs into his shoulder. “So, dinner with the Wests soon then?”

Sighing hard, Len shakes his head at him, but he can tell he’s been roped in anyway. He’s tempted to tell Barry that he hates him, but he can’t. It’s truth-telling hours in Barry Allen’s cabin, and Len is helpless to resist that wicked little grin. So he plants a kiss on it instead, and admits, “I love you.”

The smile that spreads across Barry’s face makes the admission worth it. “I love you too,” he says, leaning up in an unspoken demand for more kisses. Len is only too happy to provide, before he curls around Barry, long past ready to sleep. Just as he starts to drift off, Barry murmurs, “Thank you for a lovely day,” sleepy-quiet and sweet beside him.

It sure has been a lovely day. As he listens to Barry’s breathing even out towards sleep, Len’s thoughts return to its beginning. He was so nervous, waiting on the dock for Barry to wake up. Right now, he can’t remember what he was afraid of. He and Barry still have a long way to go towards really getting to know each other, with all their secrets out in the open. He can’t imagine it’ll all be as smooth sailing - swimming? - as today. But that’s life. And if he gets to live it with the man currently asleep in his arms, Len can deal with that.

He’ll take the rest on trust.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are delightful.
> 
> Extra content warning: There’s a very vague reference to possible self-harm scars, while Barry is thinking about Len’s scars, half way through the fic. To skip it, stop reading at: “Barry shifts to wrap an arm around Len’s shoulder, letting his hand trace up and down the line of his arm.” You can start reading again at: “‘Ready to go inside?’ he asks after a few minutes.” You won’t miss any plot stuff.
> 
> If you’re skipping the smut, it starts about halfway through the fic, at: “He gets his own back when he’s finally caught his breath - and why does that take him just a little longer than Len?” You can restart at: “After a happy moment of quiet, he returns to idly running his hand over Len’s chest.”


End file.
